She’s ready to shed her good-girl ways...

“You’re all about following the rules now?

“Pity.”

Mackenzie Wallace hopes there’s still some bad boy lurking beneath single father Danny Adams’s upright exterior. Being the proverbial good girl left her brokenhearted and alone in the past. Now she’s back in town and wants excitement with her high school crush—not love. Dan knows their connection runs deep, despite Mackenzie’s protests. But will their new personas work together—especially when Dan’s secret is exposed?

JO MCNALLY lives in coastal North Carolina with one hundred pounds of dog and 200 pounds of husband—her slice of the bed is very small. When she’s not writing or reading romance novels (or clinging to the edge of the bed), she can often be found on the back porch sipping wine with friends while listening to great music. If the weather is absolutely perfect, Jo might join her husband on the golf course, where she tends to feel far more competitive than her actual skill level would suggest.

You can follow Jo pretty much anywhere on social media (and she’d love it if you did!), but you can start at her website, jomcnallyromance.com

Also by Jo McNally

A Man You Can Trust

It Started at Christmas…Nora’s

Guy Next Door

She’s Far From Hollywood

The Life She Wants

Rendezvous Falls

Slow Dancing at Sunrise Stealing

Kisses in the Snow

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Her Homecoming Wish

Jo McNally

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90326-8

HER HOMECOMING WISH

© 2020 Jo McNally

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To first responders everywhere who balance family and personal lives against their stressful jobs, and who carry the weight of people’s expectations every day.

Thank you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

How could a liquor store owner not have any booze in his house?

Mackenzie Wallace kept opening and closing her dad’s kitchen cabinets as if she hadn’t searched each and every one already. Hell, she’d even checked the bedroom closets and the cabinet in the laundry room.

She did not want to go downstairs to her father’s liquor store in the middle of the night.

But she did want a glass of scotch.

And Dad’s apartment was dry as a bone.

There was no sense procrastinating. She grabbed the keys hanging by the back door. Dad’s old gray hoodie also hung there, worn and faded. Mack looked down at her purple pajama shorts and green cotton camisole. No one would see her in the dark, wee hours of the morning, but she was still a little too naked for venturing outside. The hoodie barely fell past the hem of her shorts, but at least it covered her almost see-through top. And it would protect her from the cool night air. It might be the end of April, but in the Catskill Mountains of New York, that could mean snow flurries as easily as daffodils.

If nothing else, she’d have a great story to tell Dad when she visited him at the hospital tomorrow morning. No, later this morning. Ugh. She needed some serious sleep after too many hours packing, driving and unpacking in one day. Surely a glass of Dad’s top-shelf scotch would do the trick. All she had to do was let herself into the liquor store and find it.

She’d watched her brother do it dozens of times when they were kids. As much as she’d tried to distance herself from Ryan’s bad behavior, he’d pressed her into lookout duty more than once—a nervous ten-year-old standing outside the door, praying no one would come by. Especially Mom and Dad. Young Mackenzie could never bear the thought of disappointing her parents. And look at her now—slinking back to her childhood home as a bitter divorced woman in need of booze.

She side-eyed her reflection in the small mirror by the back door—put there by her mom, who’d never had a hair out of place when she left the apartment. Mom, who’d been gone so many years now, would definitely not approve of Mackenzie’s appearance or her behavior. Mack raised her chin. As much as Mack had adored her late mother, she didn’t want to be her. Not anymore. Her days of living up to someone else’s standards were over.

She tucked her unruly hair behind her ears and slipped her feet back into her bright red leather flats. If the ladies of Glenfadden Country Club could only see her now. Mack snorted, talking to the large orange tabby cat watching her from the armchair, “As if we care what that group of two-faced Connecticut snobs think anymore, right?”

Her cat, Rory, meowed in response, casting a malevolent gaze around the apartment. He was clearly ticked off about being stuffed into a canvas cat carrier for the four-hour drive from Greenwich. Mack walked over and scratched the top of his head. The Maine coon cat was as big as a small dog. Her ex-husband hated him. But it was Rory’s attitude of fierce independence that drew Mack to him in the shelter two years ago. Maybe she’d had a premonition that she’d need a tough friend, and Rory was it. He tried to ignore her touch in true Rory fashion, but he couldn’t disguise the purr that rumbled in his chest. She grinned. “You stay here and guard the place. I’ll be right back.”

The closest full-time residents in the row of shops and apartments in downtown Gallant Lake lived three doors down and were surely sound asleep. Still, she tiptoed down the stairs outside the back door. The metal fire escape stretched the length of the block on the second level, connecting the buildings. Stairs to the parking lot were spaced along the walkway. She was going to a ridiculous length for a drink, but now that it was on her mind, she couldn’t turn back. It would only take her a few minutes to grab a bottle of Macallan and get back upstairs.

She used the back door to the store, knowing she’d be able to find her way through the familiar space without needing to search for any light switches that might attract attention at 2:00 a.m. The door opened easily, letting out a low groan as it swung closed. She waited, then let out a long sigh of relief at the silence that followed. Didn’t look like Dad ever installed that alarm system he kept threatening to buy.

She’d just let herself into her father’s store without permission, barely dressed, sneaking around as if she was some kind of thief. She couldn’t help feeling a little thrill at doing something so out of character. She had every right to be here, of course, but it still felt deliciously naughty.

She used the flashlight app on her phone to work her way around the boxes in the back hall and into the store itself. And that’s where her plan took a turn. Her father may not have installed an alarm, but he’d completely rearranged the store in the year since she’d been home. There were three café tables and a bunch of stools pushed together in the back corner of the store, and the display shelves had been rearranged. More space was devoted to wine now, which was a change she definitely approved of, but where was the top-shelf liquor that used to be displayed back here?

Working her way down the aisle with her phone light, she found the gin and vodka. She wasn’t looking to make cocktails, so she kept going, being careful not to bump into the displays on the endcaps. A car drove by slowly outside—probably some poor soul heading home from working the night shift somewhere. She found the good stuff behind the checkout counter.

“Sorry, Dad,” she whispered. Hopefully, he’d forgive her for helping herself to store inventory. It was a small price to pay for bringing her back to Gallant Lake ahead of schedule. She’d really been hoping for a few weeks on a beach somewhere before she swallowed her pride and moved back home with Dad to figure out her next steps. It wasn’t as if Dad planned on falling off that ladder, but it had succeeded in giving him what he’d wanted—one of his children running the family business. At least for now.

Well played, Dad.

She tore the wax seal from the bottle and tugged the top off. Reaching under the counter, she found the heavy crystal tumblers Dad always kept handy for after-hours tastings with friends. Her phone sat on the counter near the cash register, light shining upward, casting soft shadows, but the old-fashioned streetlights on Main Street spread enough light into the store that she didn’t need it. Those lights were new, and she liked the quaint atmosphere they created in the village. The rim of the glass had just touched her lips when she heard the muted groan of the back door closing.

No. It couldn’t be. She’d locked it. She was sure she’d locked the door. But that was definitely the same sound the door made when she’d come into the store. A hot flush of adrenaline washed under her skin, spiking her heart rate to the point where it threatened to jump straight out of her chest. Would the intruder be able to hear it? Because there was no doubt in her mind—there was an intruder. Someone had just let themselves into the store in darkness. Time seemed to slow as she listened to what were definitely soft footsteps coming down the hall.

Now what? Hide? Run? Scream? No. She’d vowed to herself on the drive over here from Greenwich that she was done acting meek and playing nice. This was Wallace Liquors. She was Mackenzie Wallace, and she wasn’t going to let some low-life criminal mess with her family’s business.

She swallowed the scream still threatening to break free. She needed a plan. A fast one, because there was another footstep. Damn it, she wasn’t good at thinking on the fly. Good girls who never got in trouble didn’t need escape plans. Her shoulders straightened. Good thing she wasn’t a good girl anymore, wasn’t it? She took a quick inventory.

Her phone was only a few feet away, but with the flashlight app still on, it would send a beam of light moving around and draw the intruder’s attention to her location. Calling 911 would mean speaking aloud, again exposing her to the bastard who’d dared to enter her father’s store while Dad was lying in a hospital bed. Fear began to morph into rage. She pulled the hood up over her long blond hair and toed off her shoes for silence. Logical or not, she couldn’t help thinking the element of surprise was her greatest advantage.

What would Dad do in this situation? She reached under the counter and smiled. There it was. Dad’s old baseball bat, suspended on brackets. He’d always called it his “burglar alarm.” Mack slowly lifted and removed the bat. This would at least give her a chance. If she scared him away, or even incapacitated him a little, she’d have time to call for help. Or run.

She crept toward the back corner by the hallway. This was just the perfect end to a far-from-perfect day. Focus, Mackenzie. She heard one footstep. Another. He was at the end of the hall. The beam of a flashlight cut into the darkness. If she didn’t move now, he’d see her with his next step. She raised the bat, breathed a quick prayer and stepped forward, swinging with every ounce of strength she had.

There was a sharp, shouted curse, and the next thing she knew, she was being slammed against the wall so hard she saw stars. The bat was wrenched out of her hand, her body spun to face the wall, her arm twisted so high behind her back she was sure it was going to break. Something hard and cold touched her neck, directly under her ear. Her bad day just got a whole lot worse. For the first time, it occurred to her that this could be her last day.

Was this really what her final moment on this earth would be like? Half-dressed, defending her dad’s liquor store in freaking Gallant Lake, New York? It hardly seemed fair. Her vision blurred, but she refused to pass out and let this jerk have his way without a fight. Focus!

In between some of the harshest swear words she’d ever heard, she heard some others that refused to compute.

“Don’t move, you son of a...”

Swear. Swear. Swear.

“Give me your other hand.”

Swear. Swear. Swear.

“You’re under arrest, pal.”

Wait.

What?

She tried to make eye contact, but he had her face pressed so tightly to the wall she could hardly breathe, much less move.

“Arrest? Wait, no... Are you...a cop?”

There was no humor in his responding laughter. “Yeah, it’s your lucky night. Breaking and entering and assaulting a police officer. You picked the wrong town...”

Mack gathered the deepest breath she could, blinking back tears at the pain in her arms.

“I’m not a thief! This is my father’s store! I didn’t break into anything. I used a key!”

A thick, tense blanket of silence fell on the hallway. Not a sound. No breathing. No movement. Finally, the pressure on her arms and against her chest eased. He stepped back half a step. The man’s voice went from cold and commanding to incredulous.

“Mackenzie?”

Deputy Sheriff Dan Adams willed his heart to fall back into a steady rhythm again, but the damn thing wouldn’t cooperate. He’d expected to confront some dumb-ass teens looking for trouble in Carl’s store. The whole town knew about Carl’s fall from a ladder. The popular local businessman had ended up with broken ribs and a badly broken ankle. Dan figured some punk was taking advantage of Carl’s situation to get some free booze or easy drug money. The one thing he didn’t expect? Seeing the distinctive dark shape of a baseball bat whipping toward his face.

At that point, his training took over. He went through the motions without a lot of thought. Other than thinking he was royally pissed off.

Disarm the perpetrator. Subdue him. Restrain him.

Express extreme displeasure with the perp’s behavior.

Throw him in the car and haul him to jail.

And then the perpetrator spoke. A woman spoke. And claimed to be Carl’s daughter.

Well, son of a...

Carl only had one girl.

Dan reached up and tugged at the hood, uncovering a tumble of thick blond hair.

Mackenzie freakin’ Wallace.

He’d just held a nightstick to the head of Mackenzie Wallace. Little Mack. The sweet baby sister of his best friend in high school. She was still face-planted against the wall, probably afraid to move, even though he’d released her. That was when the old protective feeling kicked in, along with a flood of horror at how many ways this could have gone seriously wrong.

“Jeez, Mack, what the hell?” Dan turned her around. “I could have killed you. You know that, right? What the fu...what are you doing here?”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Danny? Danny Adams?”

He spread his hands. “I go by Deputy Sheriff Adams these days.”

That didn’t seem to compute.

“You’re a cop? You?”

As Dan studied the look on her face, he couldn’t blame her for whatever mix of anger and shock she was feeling. If he’d seen teenage him do some of the things she had seen growing up, he wouldn’t believe it, either. But that was a different time. A different Dan. He took another step back, but he had to ask.

“Mackenzie, seriously.” He looked down at long, bare legs. “Are you naked under that hoodie? What are you doing in here at two o’clock in the morning?”

Her voice chilled. “What are you doing in here at two o’clock in the morning, Deputy Sheriff Adams? Besides assaulting innocent women on their own damn property?”

He understood why she was ticked off. He’d scared her. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I drove by, saw someone moving around in here with a flashlight and investigated. Your dad gave me a key years ago. I had no idea you were back in town.”

“I didn’t know I had to check in with the sheriff when I arrived.” Sharp words, but some of the fire left her voice. Mackenzie rubbed her wrist, and Dan felt a stab of guilt.

“I’m sorry, Mack. You had the hood up, I had no way of knowing...”

“Was that a gun I felt against my neck?”

“Was that a baseball bat I saw swinging at my face?”

She gave a short laugh, and Dan felt something shift a little in his chest. It was the husky laughter of a grown woman, not the giggle of the cute little pigtailed girl from his memories. She nodded, running her fingers through her hair to push it off her face.

“Fair enough. I couldn’t get to sleep, and Dad didn’t have any good stuff upstairs. So I figured I’d pull a Ryan and help myself.”

“That’s definitely something your brother would do.” Dan frowned into the darkness. Ryan and Mack had always been as different as night and day, with Mackie being the Goody Two-shoes to Ryan’s wild ways.

“I don’t suppose you can join me while you’re on duty?”

“Join...?”

“There’s an open bottle of very expensive scotch on the counter, just waiting for someone to enjoy it.” She laughed again, softly this time. “And I’d really like to hear the story of how Danger Dan turned into a lawman.”

Dan grimaced. He hated that stupid nickname Ryan made up, especially coming from Mack. Even if he had earned it back then.

“Is your husband waiting upstairs?” Dan wasn’t sure where that question came from, but, to be fair, all Mack ever talked about was leaving Gallant Lake, having a big wedding and a bigger house. The girl had goals, and from what he’d heard, she’d reached every one of them.

“I don’t have a husband anymore.” She brushed past him and headed toward the counter. “So are you joining me or not?”

Dan glanced at his watch, not sure how to digest that information. “I’m off duty in fifteen minutes.”

Her long hair swung back and forth as she walked ahead of him. So did her hips. Damn.

“And you’re all about following the rules now? You really have changed. Pity. I guess I’m drinking my first glass alone. You’ll just have to catch up.”

He frowned. Mackenzie had been strong willed, but never sassy. Never the type to sneak into her father’s store alone for an after-hours drink. Not the type to taunt him. Not the type to break the rules.

Looked like he wasn’t the only one who’d changed since high school.

Chapter Two

Mack willed her hand not to shake as she poured two fingers of Macallan into a second glass and slid it across the counter in Dan’s general direction. He hadn’t moved from his spot at the end of the hall, where he stood—watching. Damn. Danny Adams.

Danny, of the dragon tats, hard-drinking and wrong-side-of-the-law escapades in high school. Danny, who’d spent most of his waking hours upstairs with her brother, Ryan. Smoking pot and playing stupid video games in Ryan’s room. If they weren’t hanging out upstairs, they were racing around the countryside in Ryan’s souped-up Nissan, looking for trouble. And one night, they’d found it. At least, Ryan had.

She’d lost track of him after the accident. Ryan had been in the hospital for ages, and she didn’t remember Dan coming around much. Then there was the trial. Then Mom got sick. And the life hits just kept on coming, until Mack finally made her escape from Gallant Lake, burning all her bridges on the way out.

Now she was back. And there was Dan. In a sheriff’s uniform. Never saw that coming.

“Are your fifteen minutes up yet?” She gestured toward his glass. “I doubt your boss is wandering the streets to check up on you...”

Dan held his wide-brimmed hat in one hand and ran the other through his sandy brown hair. He stared at her like he’d just stumbled across a unicorn.

“It’s not about getting caught, Mackie. It’s about being responsible. If I get a call in the next few minutes, I need to be ready.” Well, wasn’t he a good little scout? He looked around the store. “How’s your dad?”

“Tired and grumpy, but on the mend. You’re really going to count down to your quitting time before you drink? The Danny Adams I knew would have crawled over broken glass to get to alcohol.”

A weird shadow crossed over his face before he leveled a pointed hazel-eyed gaze at her. This was clearly his stern law enforcement officer face. “One—I’m not the Danny Adams you knew. High school was over twenty years ago. Two—don’t call me Danny. Ever. Three—I’m a sheriff’s deputy, and I take my job seriously. I’d like to keep it. Of course I’m not going to drink on duty.”

She leveled a gaze right back at him, but her fingernails were tapping rapidly on the counter. She’d known Dan since she was in grade school. Hell, she’d crushed on him back when his hair was long and shaggy and his attitude had been pure bad boy. But he’d never stopped being Danny, the kid who’d roughed her hair and thrown popcorn at her during movie nights. Cop face or not, he wasn’t going to intimidate her now. She took a long, slow sip of scotch. “Tell you what—I’ll try not to call you Danny if you’ll promise not to remind me how long ago we met.”

He nodded, his mouth sliding into a half grin. Some of the tension left his stance, and she realized her own fingers had stopped their nervous tapping. The adrenaline rush of their violent encounter was fading for both of them. Dan walked toward the counter, his eye on the very expensive scotch. He glanced at his watch, then up at her.

“It really has been a long damn time since we first met, Mack. A lifetime ago. You were just a kid.”

“So were you. And you just failed your promise... Danny.” He rolled his eyes, reminding her again of that high school kid he’d been. He and Ryan met in freshman detention and became fast friends. Mack was in...she paused to think. “Oh, my God, I was in fifth grade when you and Ryan became partners in crime. How is that even possible?”

Dan propped his hip against the counter across from her. Now that they were closer and the lights were on, she could see the deep lines next to his eyes. As if he’d seen a lot of sun. Or a lot of trouble. He was looking at the counter, but she had a feeling he was a million miles away.

“Are you okay?”

His head rose sharply at the question. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. You look tired or stressed or something.”

Dan grunted in response. “Or something.” He looked at his watch, closed his eyes briefly, then reached for the glass of amber liquid. He downed it in one gulp, then gave a loud sigh of satisfaction. “Not my usual end-of-shift choice, but you can never go wrong with Macallan.” She held up the bottle to pour a refill, but he shook his head. “I may be off shift, but I’m in uniform.”

With a start, she realized she had no idea what kind of life Dan Adams lived these days. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but that might be an in-uniform thing. The guy had to be almost forty, so he probably had a wife and family. She took in his intense composure, his square jaw, broad shoulders and calm—if tired—eyes. Yes, this looked like a man with a Sunday school teacher of a wife, a couple kids and probably a dog, too. She couldn’t help thinking that was a damn shame. She splashed more scotch in her own glass and lifted it in a mock toast.

“I don’t have that problem, since all I have to do is crawl up the stairs. Did you settle down with anyone I know?”

He lowered his brow. “Settle down? Oh, you mean family? I married Susanne Buckley. You might have known her—she was between our grades, a couple years behind me. Cheerleader. Class president. Homecoming queen.”

Mack started to laugh. “You landed a homecoming queen? With your reputation? How did her parents let that happen?” She had a vague memory of Susanne—cute, perky and popular. No match for Danger Dan.

That odd shadow crossed his face again. He didn’t seem to like being reminded of his teen adventures. “We didn’t get together until after college, so her parents couldn’t do anything about it.” His voice dropped so low she barely heard him. “But it didn’t stop them from trying.”

Silence fell in the store again. Her long day started to catch up with her, and she couldn’t stifle the yawn that came out of nowhere. Dan straightened with a smile.

“It’s late...or should I say early? Between our little adventure and the booze you’ve had, I’m guessing you’ll get to sleep now.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “It wasn’t a gun, by the way.”

“What?”

“You asked me before if you felt a gun to your head. It was my baton. Cops don’t make a habit of blowing people’s heads off for burglary.”

She considered that for a moment before nodding solemnly. “Good to know. But that was a baseball bat I was swinging.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when sweet little Mackie would try to take me out with her daddy’s bat.”

“I’m done being sweet little Mackie, Dan. Being sweet got me nowhere.”

The truth was, she hadn’t ever been sweet. She’d acted the part, but only as a means to an end—to make other people think better of her. Being that calculated couldn’t really be sweet, could it? It certainly hadn’t made her a lot of friends. And it didn’t help her hold on to a husband.

Dan studied her, and she had a feeling he was trying to put together a profile, cop-style. Trying to figure her out. Good luck with that. His slanted smile returned. “It got you back to Gallant Lake, helping your dad. That’s exactly what I’d expect from the sweet little Mackie I knew.”

She grimaced. It wasn’t like she’d had anywhere else to go. Mason had kept both the house and the condo in the divorce. She hadn’t had the stomach to fight him. She’d taken the cash and left. She lifted her chin. “I’m turning over a new leaf. One that doesn’t include ‘little.’” She gestured down to her well-rounded figure. “And especially doesn’t include ‘sweet.’”

He pursed his lips, tilting his head to the side with a skeptical grin. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever you say. Get some sleep, and don’t forget to lock up after I go. In fact...” He picked her phone up from the counter and handed it to her. “Unlock it.” She followed his order without question, not realizing she’d done so until he was taking the phone back from her and started tapping. “Here’s my number. Text me when you’re locked in upstairs.”

“Yes, sir. Officer, sir.” She gave him a mock salute, realizing the scotch might just be kicking in. “Say hi to Susanne for me.”

He’d started walking away but hesitated on that last line. He gave a quick shake of his head, then kept on going. The back door gave its usual groan as he left. It wasn’t until then that Mack noticed the atmosphere change. Dan seemed low-key, but his presence had still brought a definite energy to the place. Energy that evaporated as soon as he left. She thought about that for a minute, then dismissed it as nothing more than her adrenaline letdown from being shoved hard up against the wall by a guy she’d once known as a pimple-faced kid. She closed up the store and headed back upstairs.

She shoved the still-annoyed cat off her bed pillow and crawled under the covers after sending a quick text that all was well. Mack had a hunch her dreams were going to be filled with golden-green eyes that had more of a story to tell than just “I’m not that Danny anymore.” And damned if she didn’t want to know more about it.

“So let me get this straight.” Asher Peyton turned away from the dresser he’d been building and sat on the bench next to Dan. His best friend looked puzzled. “You knew Carl’s daughter when she was a kid? And you accosted her last night in Carl’s store?” Asher chuckled, rubbing the dark beard he was sporting these days. “Good luck getting any more first-responder discounts from Carl, man.”

“I hope to God she doesn’t tell him.” Dan took a swig of the cola Asher had given him. He was on duty soon, so he’d had to turn down the beer he’d been offered. Asher always had a supply of both on hand for him. “But I didn’t accost her. There was a person with a flashlight in Carl’s store in the middle of the night. I apprehended her, at best.” Sure, he’d been rough with her, but damn. He gave Asher a pointed look. “And let’s not forget that baseball bat she swung at my head.”

“Yeah, that would have hurt. Makes total sense you’d have a drink with her after.”

Dan didn’t respond. Mainly because he couldn’t explain it. He’d seen Mack a few times since high school, but not up close and personal like last night. Probably the closest they’d been as adults was when he shook her hand at her mom’s funeral years ago, but she’d been a shell-shocked college freshman with hollow eyes that day. She probably didn’t even remember him being there. Once in a while he’d seen her in the liquor store, visiting with her dad. But Dan had never stopped by. Why would he? He was part of the reason her family—the family that for years had felt like it was his—had spiraled into tragedy. He’d supplied the alcohol the night Ryan and Braden crashed, and Braden had died. It was just dumb luck that Dan hadn’t been in the car with them.

“Hello? Earth to Dan?” Asher’s voice broke into his thoughts, almost making him flinch. But Dan had learned long ago not to show that kind of reaction to anyone around him. Calm and steady was the lawman’s mantra. Never let them see you blink. He held in a steadying breath, then released it slowly, grinning at Asher.

“Sorry, man. My little run-in with Mack aside, last night was a hell of a shift. Stupid kids drag racing out on Hilton Road. And another damn overdose. It took two doses of Narcan to bring the guy back.” The nasal spray superdrug made him feel like some kind of god, bringing the dead back to life. But there was something about the look in the person’s eyes when the Narcan kicked in and jolted them back to planet Earth. They’d taken the opioids to escape, and here they were, waking up to flashing lights and yelling voices and all the chaos they’d been trying to get away from. In last night’s case, Kyle Alderwood had OD’d in his car, sitting in his parents’ driveway in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. His mom, Barb, was screaming and crying in a panic in the front yard while neighbors tried to comfort her. What a scene. He’d felt everyone’s eyes on him. This scourge had come to Gallant Lake under his watch.

“He made it?” Asher asked. Dan nodded, staring into his glass and wishing it was something other than soda.

“How many overdoses does that make in the last month or so?” Asher looked up as a customer walked in.

“Too many.” Dan answered. “Too damn many.” He needed to figure out who was distributing opioids laced with Fentanyl in Gallant Lake, and why they’d picked his quiet little town, but he hadn’t managed it yet. The stuff was everywhere all of a sudden, but the path back to the suppliers was a cleverly knotted mess he hadn’t been able to unravel. He just had to hope the new interdepartmental task force would figure it out. Soon.

Asher spoke with the woman who’d come in to check on a sideboard she’d ordered the previous week. He explained that the curly maple she’d requested hadn’t even arrived yet. And there were three orders for his custom-built furniture ahead of hers. But he promised her she’d have it in time for her daughter’s wedding shower in two months. Reassured, the woman left. Asher stood at the café table he used as a checkout counter, looking out the window at downtown Gallant Lake.

“Does Carl’s daughter have lots of blond hair? And a bang-out figure?”

Dan stood, scowling at his friend. “Maybe. Why?”

“I think she just bought out the sports section at Nate’s hardware store. She must be into hiking and stuff, huh? Like you?”

Dan ignored the speculative look Asher gave him. Ever since Asher married Nora Lowery, he’d turned into Cupid, trying to help Dan’s nonexistent love life. But Dan had two strikes against him with the ladies. He was a cop, with all the stress and weird hours that entailed. And he was a single dad.

He walked toward the window. “Can’t be Mack if she’s buying hiking equipment. She never did anything that might get her nails dirt—” His voice trailed off. Because hell if that wasn’t Mackenzie talking to Nate Thomas on the sidewalk outside Nate’s store. She was holding hiking poles under one arm, with a biking helmet dangling from her fingers. Her other hand was holding a... Was that a kayak paddle?

“So that isn’t your girl?” Asher asked.

Dan pressed his lips together. “You’ve been watching too many of those mushy movies with Nora on the romance channel.” He looked back out the window. “No one is ‘my girl.’ But yeah, that’s Mack.”

There was no mistaking her figure, full and curvy. And that thick mane of blond hair, pulled back into a ponytail instead of being carefully styled as usual. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Back in the day, Mack always looked like she was ready for tea with the queen, no matter what she was doing. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her in denim. Not even in high school. Dan stiffened at the sight of Nate’s hand on her shoulder as they laughed about something together.

Naturally, Asher picked up on his body language. “Nate’s quite a catch, you know. Maybe not the most exciting guy in town, but he’s steady and reliable and single...”

“I don’t see a hardware store owner as Mack’s type.”

Asher’s shoulder rose. “You didn’t see her as an adventurer, either, but it looks like she’s ready for hiking, biking and kayaking all in one shopping trip. Either Nate’s more of a master salesman than I gave him credit for, or you don’t know Mackenzie Wallace as much as you think you do.”

Mack turned and walked across the street toward the liquor store, loaded down with shopping bags and supplies. “I knew her as a skinny, stuck-up kid who liked to follow her brother and me around and lecture us like she was our grandmother. But somewhere in the last twenty years, she’s clearly blossomed.”

Asher scoffed as they walked to the back of the shop again. “Blossomed, huh? Now who’s been watching girlie movies? And FYI—you can laugh at that romance channel all you want, but they have some pretty deep stuff, and it puts Nora in the cuddling mood, which suits me just fine.” He held his hands up at Dan’s expression. “Okay, I’m dropping the subject. How’s Chloe doing with school?”

Dan took a sip of soda and smiled. His daughter was a topic he was always happy to discuss. He told Asher how the eight-year-old was acing her grades. Her teacher, Sarah Conway, regularly sent emails saying what a delight Chloe was to have in her class.

Now that he thought about it, Chloe was a little like a young Mack—always eager to please and striving to be the best at everything. The only difference was Chloe was a tomboy through and through and had the scrapes and bruises to show for it. Just this week, she’d tried to slide down the banister in his renovated Victorian house and nearly broke her arm when she tumbled off halfway to the ground floor. His ex-wife, Susanne, had a fit when she saw Chloe’s puffy wrist, but the doctor confirmed it was just a minor sprain.

Asher finished his lunch and moved to the unfinished dresser on the work table, and Dan knew it was time to go. He had shift in a few hours. He’d usually spend his extra time with Chloe, but Susanne had taken her into the city to shop this weekend. He could probably use a nap after working overtime last night to help out another deputy. That’s what a smart man would do.

But Dan wasn’t all that smart, because he headed right down Main Street toward the liquor store.

Chapter Three

Mack sat behind the counter and stared at the hiking poles leaning against the back wall, right between the cognac and the whiskey. She shifted on her dad’s weathered old stool, and her hiking boots clunked against the counter. Damn, these things were bulky. Nate had told her they were the highest-rated hiking boots on the market, and that she should wear them a few hours at a time to break them in and get used to them. So here she was, clumping around Dad’s liquor store in boots that would horrify the ladies back at Glenfadden Country Club. She grinned. That just made her like these boots all the more.

Her dad’s friend Bert Jenkins worked in the store part-time. He’d been covering full-time since Dad’s fall five days ago, so she’d given him a couple days off. It was weird being back in Gallant Lake, working the store on a Saturday. Everyone wanted to know about Dad, who had been grumpy as hell when she’d seen him this morning. But everyone also seemed a little hesitant to start up a conversation with her. Most of them had watched her grow up in this place.

To be fair, she hadn’t been much of a social butterfly those last few years she’d lived here. It felt like half the town hated them back then because of Ryan’s accident and Braden’s death. Then Braden’s family sued. And lost. Ryan was a mess. Her mom was sick. Dad did nothing but work. And Mack had spent her days tap-dancing like crazy to keep everyone happy at home and get good enough grades to earn a scholarship to a college as far away from Gallant Lake as possible.

She slid off the stool and walked to the back of the store, where the café tables and chairs sat in disarray. The stroll down memory lane wasn’t doing a thing to make her feel better about coming home again. She started arranging the tables and chairs.

Dad had told her he’d read an article about having wine tastings to draw in new customers, though he hadn’t gotten around to having one yet. But he had ordered the furniture. And rearranged the store to shift the wine section toward the back wall, where the tables were. It was an interesting concept, since wine was his biggest seller. Forcing people to walk past the bottles of vodka and gin to get to what they came for probably led to some impulse purchases. Dad had owned this liquor store for thirty years, but he never stopped trying to make it better. She slid two more chairs over to a table. She’d been to her share of fancy wine tastings back in Greenwich and could probably bluff her way through a wine night or two. If she was going to run the place, she should try to contribute something.

Dad had seemed more than happy to give her free rein over the store this morning. It used to be strictly his domain, but he’d shrugged off her news of taking a bottle of scotch last night—she skipped over her run-in with Dan. He told her it was a family business and she was family, so she could make her own decisions. Maybe it was the pain meds making him so amenable. He’d seemed resigned to spending a little more time at the hospital and then going to the rehab center as his ankle healed.

The bell over the front door chimed. She turned with a smile, but the smile faltered when she saw Dan Adams standing there. Her skin warmed at the memory of him pressing her against the wall last night after she’d tried to bash his head in. He was out of uniform now, in jeans and a well-worn henley. But he still sported the slanted smile she was beginning to think was a regular feature. It made him look perpetually amused, but his eyes were watchful. As if the half smile might just be a mask he wore to make him look nonthreatening. For some reason, she wanted to rattle him out of that disguise.

“What can I help you with, Officer? Looking for another Macallan?”

His smile deepened. “In the middle of the afternoon? Seems a little indulgent. I think that’s a drink best saved for evening hours.” He walked to the back, spotting the chairs and tables she’d set up. “So Carl’s going through with his plan for wine tastings?”

Mack shrugged. “I think he’s a little intimidated by the idea, since he’s not a huge wine drinker himself. But he was all for it when I told him I might give it a try. He has to call the licensing commission to make sure I qualify as a legal agent of the store so it’s all on the up-and-up.” She stepped back to inspect the tables, trying to determine if they were spaced far enough apart and making sure they weren’t blocking access to the wine displays.

Dan gave a low whistle. “Those are some pretty fancy boots you got there, Mackenzie.”

She looked down at her sturdy footwear. “I’m breaking them in. Nate Thomas says they’ll keep me warm and dry when I hit the trails.”

“Hit the trails? You could climb Everest in those things. I watched you grow up, kiddo, and I never once saw you on any trails around here.” Dan pulled out a chair and made himself at home.

Mack lifted her chin with a sniff. “I grew up a long time ago. I’ve changed.”

“Yeah? Is this part of that new-leaf thing you talked about last night?”

Her chin rose. “As a matter of fact, yes. It is. I’m tired of the sweater-set-and-pearls crowd.”

Dan shook his head. “I don’t know what that means, but the Mack I knew wore nothing but sweater sets.”

She studied him for a moment, tipping her head to the side. “That’s the whole point of a new leaf. I think I made it clear last night that I’m not the Mack you knew.”

He looked around the store, showing no signs of responding. Was he ignoring her? Dismissing her? Taunting her? Insecurity made her chest go tight. She’d vowed not to give a damn about how anyone judged her, but old habits died hard. Her fingernails dug into her palms. She turned away and straightened some wine bottles, refusing to speak before he did. She could wait him out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his slow smile return. Instead of reacting to her comment, he jumped to a new topic.

“You said you weren’t married anymore. What happened?”

She huffed out a surprised laugh. “Nice segue, Danger Dan. Just dive right into the deep end, why don’t you?”

A flicker of uncertainty passed over his face before he composed himself again. “Sorry. Sometimes I fall into cop mode with the tone of my questions. It’s just...” He ran his hand through his hair, leaving finger trails in the short, thick locks. “The last I knew, you were living your dream life over in Connecticut. Big house. Rich investor husband. Queen of the country club crowd. At least, that’s the way Carl made it sound.” He looked down at her feet again. “And now you’re clumping around your dad’s liquor store in hiking boots. I’m curious how that happened.”

She turned back to the wine display, fussing with the same bottles she’d just straightened, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “Well, you know what they say—be careful what you ask for. Some dreams aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. So I’m starting a new dream, here in Gallant Lake. And nowhere near my ex-husband and his social circle.”

Gallant Lake might not be where she’d planned to be living at this point in her life, but it was where she was needed. It wasn’t easy to think about facing everyone and explaining her failed dreams, but she’d just have to suck it up. Hopefully, she hadn’t burned all her bridges with her Mean Girls act in high school. She stared blankly at the bottle of merlot in her hand. It would serve her right if the whole town shunned her.

Dan’s voice went hard. “Did he hurt you?”

It made sense that a law enforcement officer would go there first, but the question still made her look up in surprise. The memory of how her marriage collapsed still stung.

“Not the way you’re suggesting, no. But it wasn’t fun.” She’d left everything she’d known behind in Greenwich, including her so-called friends.

Dan sat at one of the tables with a sigh. “Divorce is never fun.”

She spun on her heel, which wasn’t easy in those boots.

“You, too?”

“Three years ago.” He nodded, staring at the floor. “Susanne and I were able to keep the focus on what was best for our daughter, but it still feels like a failure, you know? You don’t have kids?”

Her heart pinched tight. “No. No kids. And yes. Feels like a failure.” She gave him a thin smile. “But I did get custody of our giant grumpy cat.”

Dan chuckled. “I can’t tell from your tone if that’s a win or a loss.”

She thought of how Rory had tried to smack Dad’s bowling trophies off the shelf one by one that morning while she scrambled to catch them like a juggler, cursing the cat the whole time.

“I’m not sure, either,” she laughed. “He’s a pain in the ass. But he keeps the bed warm.” Oh, damn. She waved her hand in dismissal. “Well, crap. Talk about oversharing.”

Dan gave her a quizzical look. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because it’s not a criticism, but... I don’t remember you swearing. Like...ever.”

She gestured to herself. “New leaf, remember? This is new and improved Mackenzie, with no mouth filter. And hiking boots.”

And twenty extra pounds since high school. She cringed inside. He must think she’d just let herself go entirely.

“Hey...” Dan’s voice was soft as he stood and took a step toward her, forehead furrowed. “New leaves are supposed to make you feel good. What’s wrong?”

Her breath caught as she tried to steady herself. She could not have a postdivorce meltdown right now. Those were reserved for late evenings, when she was alone and in the dark. She bit her lip hard to bring herself back under control.

“Like you said... Divorce is a failure, and mine’s officially only a month old. And look at me. I’m an overweight mess dressed in combat boots.” She blinked, willing this pity party to go away. Dan’s gentle laughter helped.

“Okay, let’s break down that comment. I said divorce felt like a failure, not that it was one.” He ran his eyes up and down her body. “I don’t see a mess, or anything wrong with your weight. I see a woman who’s just as beautiful as ever, in a very grown-up way.” A funny vibration started low in her abdomen. He thought she was beautiful? His hand touched her upper arm gently. “And if you want to call those combat boots, you go right ahead. You’d make a kick-ass soldier, and you’re gonna knock the hell out of this new leaf of yours.”

Dan sat in his patrol car a few nights later, thinking about that conversation with Mackie. She considered herself a hot mess, but all he could see was her sass and sharp humor. The new fighting spirit she seemed to have. She’d stood her ground that first night, wielding a baseball bat. Every inch of her was an intoxicating, curving temptation. If that was a hot mess...he was into it.

He shifted on the seat, glancing at the radar as a sedan rolled slowly and carefully by. He’d intentionally parked so he’d be easily visible to drivers. Anyone who whipped by him tonight over the speed limit was literally begging for trouble. But he was really hoping no one would. He was worn-out and looking forward to a few days off. The swing shift schedule was a killer, but he didn’t have much choice.

When Gallant Lake decided it couldn’t afford its own police force ten years ago, the county sheriff’s office had taken over. Dan was a wet-behind-the-ears rookie back then, but the town and county made an agreement. They made a position for him as a deputy sheriff, along with the former police chief, Mike DiNofrio, and gave Dan and Mike the Gallant Lake district to cover. It was the county’s way of reassuring the locals that they’d still have coverage by guys they knew.

But they were stretched thin these days, thanks to budget cuts. If there was something going on elsewhere in the county, Gallant Lake was out of luck, with the nearest on-duty sheriff up to twenty miles away. The state troopers helped with coverage, but again, it depended on who was where. There were too many times when there wasn’t a law enforcement officer anywhere near Gallant Lake, much less patrolling its streets on a regular basis.

And now that the Gallant Lake Resort was expanding and bringing a lot more tourists and workers to the area, the town needed more law enforcement coverage, not less. There’d been some talk about restarting the local police force, and the new mayor was behind the idea. But it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, thanks to politics—one of the few things Dan hated almost as much as he hated the cheap, deadly drugs coming into this area lately.

Several more vehicles meandered past his post. The last one gave him a glare and jumped on the gas shortly after passing him, as if taunting him. He was too tired to play games today. He didn’t hit the lights right away, watching to make sure the guy wasn’t stupid enough to stay at the high speed. Sure enough, the truck slowed back down again. Good thing. He was in no mood to deal with some hotshot kid in a jacked-up truck.

When Dan picked up his daughter the next morning, after far too little sleep, Chloe had enough energy for the both of them. As usual, she was the life force that kept him going.

“Dad! Oh my God! Did you hear? There’s a fashion show at the resort and Mom said I could be in it! I’m gonna be a model! In a real fashion show!” Chloe grabbed his hand on the sidewalk and tugged him toward Susanne’s house. Which used to be their house. Back when they were a family. His daughter’s words didn’t sink in until they were walking inside.

“Wait...did you say you’re going to be in a fashion show, Chloe? Is it a contest or something?”

“I don’t think it’s a contest. But Miss Mel at the shop said she’ll order me something special to wear, and she said it could be purple!” Dan couldn’t help smiling, despite his confusion. Chloe’s entire room was purple, from walls to curtains to carpet. At both houses.

Susanne stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway and waved at Dan. “Hey! Come have a cup of coffee while she gets her stuff ready. I’ll fill you in on the big fashion show.” She winked. “No reality TV stuff, I promise!”

While Susanne was pregnant, she and Dan had made themselves a few promises, as all new parents do. They’d provide a united front at all times. They wouldn’t be overprotective helicopter parents, but they wouldn’t be free-range parents, either. And they’d never push their child to do something they didn’t want to do. No screaming stage mom. No cursing hockey dad. No unhealthy competition of any kind. They’d let their child be a child. No overwrought reality show parenting.

That became their mantra for all of it. No reality shows! Susanne had a particular hatred for the cable shows that seemed to glorify horrid parents exploiting their children, who were pushed to win dance contests or kiddie beauty pageants or whatever. After Chloe was born, they realized parenting—not to mention marriage—was a lot more complicated than they’d ever anticipated. When one of them thought the other—or Chloe—might be getting a little too carried away, they’d remind each other there were no cameras around. No need for drama.

A fashion show? That one sounded straight out of reality show land.

“I swear she’s only doing it for fun,” Susanne said as she handed him a mug of coffee. “No competition. It’s part of the big charity fund-raiser the resort does for that veterans’ group every year. You know, with the golf tournament and the fancy gala? Samir is on the board this year, with Amanda Randall. She said they were going to be looking for local fashion models, including children. So he suggested Chloe.”

Dr. Samir Badawi was Susanne’s fiancé. He’d come to the country as an orphan from Sudan, sponsored by a church in Gallant Lake, and was now a dermatologist in White Plains. He was a good guy as far as Dan could tell—soft-spoken, kind, smart. Chloe seemed to like him. And Susanne was over the moon for the guy.

It made sense—Samir was everything in a mate that Dan wasn’t. Wealthy. Didn’t have a dangerous job with crazy hours. Susanne probably didn’t text Samir all day just to make sure he was okay. She didn’t have to worry that he might die on his shift. Her fears over being a cop’s wife had been a big factor in their divorce. He’d tried to explain that her fretting distracted him and actually put him at more risk, but that argument just made things worse. So yeah, Samir was probably a better fit for Susanne. Dan wasn’t sure how he felt about the guy making decisions about Chloe’s activities, though. He also wasn’t sure he wanted his eight-year-old daughter parading around in front of strangers.

“I thought you and I were still making decisions about Chloe as a team.” He sounded more resentful than he’d intended. Dan usually swallowed pesky things like emotions to keep from showing them. Susanne’s eyebrow rose.

“Samir is going to be Chloe’s stepfather in six months. I think that makes him part of the so-called team, Dan. And I did text you yesterday to call me, which you never did.” She had a right to be ticked at him. He drained half his mug of coffee and reined in his annoyance. She knew he didn’t answer her texts during shifts unless she said it was urgent. Call me wasn’t urgent. But there was no sense in both of them getting mad.

“I get that, Suze. I do.” He splayed his hands in surrender. “And I like Samir. But Chloe’s still our daughter. A heads-up would have been nice, even if you didn’t think my opinion was required.” He’d tried to sound reasonable, but he could hear the resentment in his voice, and so could Susanne. Instead of challenging him, she bowed her head and sighed.

“I’m sorry if it felt like a blindside, but I did try. I can’t help it that you were working. And we just agreed yesterday after we took her to Five and Design to talk to Mel, and Chloe got so excited about it.” She gave him a smile. “As you may have noticed. She’ll be wearing a modest party dress. No self-respecting reality show would be interested in this. I promise.”

Dan chuckled despite himself, tension leaving his shoulders. Melanie Lowery—no, Melanie Brannigan as of last month—owned an upscale women’s boutique on Main Street. Mel had married sports agent Shane Brannigan on St. Patrick’s Day at the resort, and it had been a blowout of a party. The former fashion model had settled in Gallant Lake to be close to her Lowery cousins, including Asher’s wife, Nora. Their other cousin, Amanda Randall, was the wife of the owner of the Gallant Lake Resort, the town’s biggest employer and tourist draw. And a fourth cousin, Bree Caldwell from North Carolina, had founded the veteran support charity with her husband. It seemed unlikely that this was some mad plot to corrupt his daughter. He reached out and clinked Susanne’s mug with his.

“If the Lowery women are involved, I’m sure Chloe will be fine. And she’s definitely excited.” He straightened at the sound of his daughter galloping down the stairs. “Sorry if I overreacted. It’s been a tough couple of days.”

Susanne nodded. “You look beat. I heard there was another overdose. Are you any closer to finding the bastards selling the stuff?”

His shoulders slumped under the weight of what was becoming a familiar question. “Nothing yet. We need more dedicated investigators, but the department is stretched too thin on this new budget. We don’t have the manpower to do the job right.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, and he could feel her tension. Talking about understaffing was probably making her even more nervous about his job. “Has there been any more talk about reestablishing a Gallant Lake police department?”

Dan turned to wash his mug in the sink. Treating this little house like home was a tough habit to break after sharing years of family life there.

“The politicians are talking, but that doesn’t mean anything. They’re always talking.” Dan hated politicians and their verbal gymnastics.

Susanne watched him dry the mug and put it away in the cupboard. “If you’re that understaffed, do you think you’ll have to work the night of the gala next month? Chloe will want you there. And she has a fitting at the boutique in a couple weeks. I’ll text you once we have a time.” Susanne knew he had little control over his schedule. It wasn’t as if he ever wanted to miss family events. She cleared her throat. “Rumor has it Blake Randall is pushing hard for a local police department, and he has some clout as the owner of the resort. And didn’t you say Asher was on some committee about it?” She hesitated. “If you were chief...”

If he was the police chief of Gallant Lake, he’d probably be working even more hours than he was now. Chloe dashed into the kitchen, school backpack over one shoulder and a purple duffel bag over the other. He glanced at his watch. She’d be late for school if he didn’t get moving.

“Kiss your mom goodbye, baby, and let’s go.” He looked back at Susanne as he headed out. “Honestly, Suze, I don’t get into what the committees and politicians are up to. It’s all just noise until a decision is made.” He held the door open for his daughter. “I’ll have her back here by Sunday night.”

Dan dropped Chloe off at school and drove to the small Victorian house that was his home now. It was just a few blocks from Susanne’s place in one direction and the elementary school in another. Close enough that Chloe could ride her bike back and forth between her parents’ houses. He crawled into bed to catch as much rest as he could before picking his daughter up later. These swing shifts were going to be the death of him yet.

As usual, every worry from every corner of his life rushed through his mind as he lay there, trying to fall asleep. Among them were the usuals—who was selling drugs in his town? What would happen once Susanne and Samir married? The house Dan and Susanne had bought right after they’d married was a little humble for a doctor. Susanne was still in her thirties. Would she and Samir have children? How would Chloe deal with that?

But today, as had happened every day this week, his last thoughts before closing his eyes were of a sassy blonde standing in her father’s liquor store wearing those ridiculous hiking boots with a smile that wasn’t quite as sugar sweet as it used to be. Mack now had a daring smile that teased of adventure. And the light in her brown eyes teased at even more. Or maybe he was just imagining that. After all, she’d been Perfect Mackenzie back in school—perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfectly angelic behavior. She’d been the sugary counterbalance to all the trouble her brother and Dan managed to find. Determined to leave Gallant Lake in her rearview mirror, she’d gone off to college in California, then married a banker and moved to a mansion in the wealthiest enclave of Greenwich, Connecticut. Dan had been happy for the kid when he’d heard.

But she wasn’t a kid anymore. And he had a feeling she might not be all that angelic, either. And that’s the thought that kept him awake the most.

Chapter Four

“Welcome to your first Women in Charge meeting, Mackenzie!” Nora Peyton raised her foam-topped mug of cappuccino in Mack’s direction. “The only rule for our meetings is that there are no rules. We just brainstorm and try to help each other. There are no bad ideas, because even the worst idea might lead to something brilliant.”

Nora’s Gallant Brew coffee shop was closed for the evening on Thursday, and the front row of lights was off. There were five other women gathered at the table nearest the coffee machines—Nora, petite and smiling, with her brunette bob tucked behind her ears. Nora’s two cousins were there—Mel Brannigan, owner of the Five and Design boutique, and Amanda Randall, whose husband owned the Gallant Lake Resort, and an interior designer in her own right. While the Lowery cousins were new faces to Mack, the other two were much more familiar: Cathy Meadows, the former owner of the coffee shop and current part-time employee there, and Thea Winters, who’d owned the Gallant Lake Flower Shop for at least fifty years.

“So glad you could join us, Mackenzie.” Amanda leaned forward. She was petite like Nora but had long blond curls that made her look a bit like Little Bo Peep, especially with the pink polka-dot top she was wearing. Amanda was full of restless energy, shifting in her chair and tapping the side of her mug with her spoon. “The female business owners of Gallant Lake need to stick together!”

“My friends call me Mack. And I don’t actually own anything. My dad is the boss...”

He’d surprised her a few times this week, though, repeatedly hinting that he wanted Mack to take a more active role in the family business while she was here. She got the feeling he wanted her staying a lot longer than just to regroup from her divorce. But she wasn’t ready to consider a permanent move to Gallant Lake just yet.

Mel put her hand on Mack’s arm. “How is Carl? I meant to get over to see him last week, but I had an awful spring cold and didn’t dare risk making him sick.”

“He’s good, Mel. Rarin’ to go, but the doctors are still worried about his ankle.” She’d met with the doctors that morning and had been dismayed at what they’d had to say. Before she could explain, Cathy—of all people—spoke up.

“The doctors think they’ll have to do more surgery to repair the tendon.” Cathy shook her head, pushing her braid of gray hair back over her shoulder. “If they do, Carl won’t be able to put an ounce of weight on it for weeks. Silly old goat, climbing on ladders at his age...” She looked up and noted Mack’s raised eyebrows. How did Dad’s former neighbor know all this when Mack had just heard it a few hours ago? Cathy blushed and rushed on. “I just...happened to stop by...before I came here...to say hi to my old friend Carl...because I was in White Plains to...”

The three Lowery cousins exchanged amused glances. Mack wasn’t sure what she was missing. Nora coughed and began nodding quickly.

“I sent Cathy to White Plains to pick up an order and told her she should stop and see her...old friend.” Dad had told Mack that Cathy had semiretired a few years ago. She’d sold the shop to Nora but stayed on as a part-time employee. Nora shifted in her chair, then straightened and grinned brightly. “So anyway, we started this group last fall, half as a joke, but we’re actually starting to get some things done here in Gallant Lake. We have more members, of course, but this was an impromptu gathering to meet you, and some ladies couldn’t make it. Including our esteemed mayor, Margie Malone.”

Thea harrumphed, her mouth twisting into a scowl. Mack had known the woman all her life, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen her smile. Such an odd personality for a florist.

“Esteemed to you, maybe,” Thea said. “The jury’s still out on her. After all these years, she’s—”

“She’s making great progress.” Amanda finished, but probably not the way Thea would have. “She secured a grant to fix up the park, and she’s working with Nate at the hardware store to finish the waterfront project and the boardwalk that runs behind the shops over there.”

Thea rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, pressing her mouth into a tight, thin line.

“As I was saying,” Nora continued, “we started meeting monthly, or as needed, to discuss how our businesses are doing and come up with ideas for promotions and stuff. And we encourage each other.”

“Why do you call it Women in Charge?” Mack asked.

“That started at my wedding a few years ago,” Amanda laughed. “It was a small wedding...”

“In a castle...” Mel muttered. Mack knew Amanda and her husband lived in the historic old castle named Halcyon, just outside town. The place had been vacant for ages. In fact, when Mack was a teen, the rumor was that the place was haunted.

Amanda lifted a shoulder at her cousin’s comment. “Anyway... I didn’t want a big wedding party, and there’s no way I could choose one cousin over the others, so Blake and I dubbed them the Women in Charge for the day. My friend Julie was my attendant, but these ladies, along with my other cousin Bree, organized every little detail for me.” Amanda sat back, sipping from her coffee. “I was recovering from an...accident. And I was pregnant, which my cousins didn’t know at the time. It was such a relief to hand off the worries to them. We figured if we could help each other like that, imagine if the women in town started lifting each other up? And since we’re all involved with businesses here, it just kind of grew from there.” She grinned at Mel. “That whole pregnant-at-the-wedding thing seemed to have caught on.”

Mack looked at Mel in surprise. “You’re expecting?”

Mel used to be a famous fashion model. She went by the name Mellie Low back then. It was easy to see how that career came about—the brunette was tall and striking, even without a bit of makeup on. Her dark hair was pulled back into an artfully messy twist, and Mack suspected Mel’s casual slacks and sweater sported expensive designer labels.

The woman’s face went pink as she patted her flat stomach. “One month married and three months pregnant. Not the way Shane and I planned it, but we’re happy. And terrified.”

Nora smiled. “You’ll be perfect parents.” She patted Cathy’s hand. “Even though Cathy isn’t a business owner now, she was one for years, and knows everyone and everything involving Gallant Lake. We’re newcomers, so we rely on Cathy and Thea and some of the other women to keep us from rocking the apple cart too much.”

Mack nodded. Cathy hadn’t changed much through the years—she’d always been such a free spirit. Her hair, now pewter instead of the auburn Mack remembered, was still as long as ever, pulled back in that signature heavy braid. Mom used to call Cathy a “hippie girl who never grew up,” but they’d been close, if unlikely, friends. Cathy used to live in the loft over the coffee shop, and Mack’s parents were just two doors down. Mack used to run over to Cathy’s shop for hot cocoa after school, and Cathy always tossed extra marshmallows on top. When Mom got sick, Cathy was there every day, bringing meals or magazines or just sitting and holding Mom’s hand. But Cathy seemed to be having a hard time maintaining eye contact across the table. Maybe the memories made her as sad as they did Mack.

“So...is your dad really going to have wine tastings at the store?” Amanda winked at the women around the table. “That would be so much fun! We could promote it from the resort as something guests could attend, and maybe encourage other shops to stay open later that night. With a little wine to loosen the purse strings, people might spend money more freely.”

Thea surprised them all when she agreed. “I’m not sure how ethical it is to rely on booze for business, but we need more bodies downtown before we all go belly up.” She glanced out the windows to a quiet Main Street. “We need more businesses, too.”

It seemed the number of boarded-up storefronts increased every time Mack came home. Dad told her it was better now than it had been, but not by much. Most of the businesses they’d lost during the recession and the resort’s struggles twenty years ago were gone for good. Main Street had no bakery, no restaurant, no gift shops. There wasn’t even a bar downtown. Everyone went to the Chalet for drinks and music. The pizza place and townie bar just outside the village center had been there forever. It was where all the cool kids used to hang out after school, but that had never been Mack’s crowd.

“If we get more people,” Nora said, “the businesses will follow the money. But I think plying people with alcohol may not be the way to go. I think Sheriff Dan will have something to say about that. And if Dan doesn’t want it to happen, it won’t.”

Mack frowned. Dan was a sheriff, but he wasn’t going to tell her what to do with her father’s business. Along with the bad news about Dad’s foot, they’d had good news today, too—she was an official legal agent for the store and could host wine tastings there.

“I have no intention of letting people get drunk. If I decide to have wine tastings, Danny Adams can’t tell me not to.” A strange quiet came over the table, and eyes went wide. Okay, maybe she’d sounded overly defiant, but she was tired of people telling her what to do.

Nora spoke first. “Dan is my husband’s best friend, and I’ve never ever heard him called Danny.” She grinned. “But I’m thinkin’ I’ll be doing it from now on. Do you know him, Mack?”

Not as much as she’d like to. She held in a little shiver. Where did that thought come from? Probably from the same place that wouldn’t let her forget how it felt when Dan had her pressed against the wall in the store last week. She gave as casual a shrug as she could manage.

“I’ve known Danny since I was in fifth grade.” There was a delighted intake of breath from the cousins. “He and my brother were best friends in high school. I was four years behind them and pestered them all the time. And by pestered, I mean tattled on. They got in more trouble...”

Cathy laughed. “Oh, those two boys had more energy than brains, didn’t they? Remember when they spray painted all the senior names right down the middle of Main Street before graduation? And they took the principal’s car and put it out on the old pier, and everyone was afraid the pier would collapse before the police could get the car off there.”

“That wasn’t funny,” Thea said with a frown. “That little escapade could have cost their parents a bundle. I don’t know how those two didn’t end up in jail...” Her voice trailed off. She looked at Mack and had the good grace to show regret, remembering one of those two was Mack’s brother. “I mean, not that they were bad kids...”

Nora’s mouth had fallen open. “Are you telling me that straight-arrow Dan—I mean Danny—Adams was a wild child? I don’t believe it! He’s so quiet and honorable and heroic. He helped save my Asher when he was in a bad place a few years ago, before we met. I mean...he’s our Sheriff Dan. He’s literally run into burning buildings to save people. He climbs trees to rescue kittens. He’s a local legend. Our hero.”

It had been enough of a shock to see Dan in uniform the other night. But a hero? Well, maybe that shouldn’t be a shock. At heart, Dan had always been good. She thought of the time she’d fallen off her bike when she was twelve. She’d been bruised, bloody and in tears when she got home. Dan—who was always at their house—was the one who’d dried her tears, joked around until he got her to laugh and bandaged her cuts. That day was probably when her girlish crush on him really began.

But oh, he’d been wild. Much too wild for wearing a law-enforcement uniform. Yet here he was, twenty years later, the hero of Gallant Lake. Her chest warmed. Good for Danny. While she’d been screwing up her life, he’d been rebuilding his. And she shouldn’t be doing anything to tarnish that. She reached for one of the ginger cookies Nora had set out.

“No, they weren’t bad. They were...energetic.” She heard Cathy give a soft huff of laughter. “And yes, they were rascals, but they were just kids back then.” She bit into the cookie. “Just a couple of active, adventurous boys.”

That was a stretch. The two of them had more than one run-in with the old police chief, Mike DiNofrio. Chief DiNofrio had developed a soft spot for Ryan and Dan for some reason. Mack realized she still had a soft spot for Dan. And maybe a little bit of that girlish crush, too.

“Daddy, come on. We’ll never get to the top if we don’t hurry!”

Chloe was running ahead on the path up the side of Gallant Mountain, zigzagging around trees and in and out of his view. Oh, to have that child’s energy.

“I’m coming, sweetie. Daddy’s a little tired today.” He tried to pick up his pace, ignoring the protest from his aching body. Nothing like wrestling with some guy who outweighs you by forty pounds and is amped up on meth to make it clear you’re getting older. Pete Malteer had taken his mom’s front door right off its hinges last night. Not the screen door—the solid wood front door. The guy had been out of his mind, furious that his poor mother refused to give him any more money, knowing he’d just spend it all on drugs and booze.

When Dan responded to the call, Karen Malteer had been cowering in the garage, hiding from Pete while she called 911. Shaneka at the 911 call center kept Karen on the line until Dan pulled in. He could hear Pete inside the house, trashing the place. Idiot. No, that wasn’t right. It was the drugs making Pete that way. Shaneka told him where to find Karen, and he got her safely over to the neighbor’s place before returning to deal with Pete. Dan called for backup, but there’d been an accident up on Route 28 and a shooting in the southern part of the county, so everyone was busy. He was on his own.

Dan was good at talking people down, but Pete wasn’t in the mood to talk. He’d taken one look at Dan in the doorway and charged. They’d landed on the sidewalk three steps below, with Dan generously absorbing Pete’s impact. Because he was a good guy like that. Pete started swinging, but Dan had the advantage of not being higher than a kite. Pete only landed a few blows before Dan had him cuffed and cursing on the ground a few minutes later. He was paying the price today, though. His ribs were covered with bruises. So were his knuckles, because Pete wasn’t the only guy who could land a punch.

A few minutes later, Chloe came back down the trail, running straight at him instead of her usual meandering. He automatically went on alert, looking for other hikers or an animal that might have startled her.

“Dad! There’s a lady up there dancing in the clearing! She’s barefoot and she’s dancing! Do you think maybe she’s a fairy? Or maybe it’s the ghost from Halcyon!”

Halcyon was a local landmark—an actual castle over a hundred years old. Blake and Amanda Randall lived there with their family. And yes, it was rumored to be haunted, but Dan doubted very much that a ghost was tripping the light fantastic on Gallant Mountain. His first guess? Sounded like someone high on something.

Damn it, he couldn’t even enjoy a hike with his little girl without those freakin’ drug dealers spoiling his day. And here he was with no gun, no radio, no nothing. Just cargo shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers. And his daughter. Dan hesitated, considering whether to go forward or get Chloe back to the car. If it was someone high, they could easily tumble over the ledge and fall several hundred feet down the side of the mountain. Or they could put another hiker in danger.

“Okay, Chloe. We’ll go check out your dancer. But you have to promise to stay right with me, okay? And don’t say a word until I know it’s safe.”

Chloe rolled her eyes dramatically, hands on her hips. “Dad, it’s just a dancing lady. Of course it’s safe.”

He felt a sharp regret that his little girl would someday have to know that people were seldom “just” anything, and were too often not safe. As a cop, it had always been a tough balancing act for him to maintain—seeing the worst of people on the job and trying to shield Chloe from that when he was home.

“You’re probably right, but humor me, okay?” She nodded and followed him up the path. He’d explained more than once that sometimes she and her mom just had to let him be who he was—a man determined to keep them safe, even if it meant he worried too much. Chloe had accepted it more readily than Susanne, who didn’t like him scaring Chloe with the way he acted.

The clearing just below the famous Kissing Rock near the top of Gallant Mountain was about an acre. Dan suspected someone had cleared it decades ago, but local lore said the grassy plot was a natural little oasis in the middle of the forest. It was anchored on one end by the legendary bus-size boulder and at the other end by a sharp drop-off with a spectacular view of Gallant Lake and the Catskill Mountains. It was privately owned, but the no-trespassing signs meant nothing to locals who’d been coming up here for generations to make out on the famous Kissing Rock.

Not that Dan would ever ignore the signs. He had explicit permission from the owner, Blake Randall, who owned much of the mountain these days. Blake had bought up a ton of property around the lake a few years ago to protect it from development, and he’d held on to the mountain land.

Dan could see the clearing just ahead, and Chloe was tugging his hand to get him to hurry. Knowing he wanted her to be quiet, she whispered, but in a voice that probably carried halfway up the mountain.

“See, Daddy? See the dancing lady?”

He stopped at the edge of the woods, figuring he could tuck Chloe behind a tree if there was trouble. But he hadn’t anticipated this kind of trouble.

Mackenzie Wallace was twirling in the center of the clearing, blond hair swinging. She was wearing jeans and a dark blue shirt advertising Nora’s coffee shop, the Gallant Brew. And her feet were indeed bare. With fire engine–red polish on her toes. She had earphones on—he could see the bright pink cord leading from her ears to her back pocket. Whatever music she was listening to had made her completely uninhibited. Her hands were up in the air, her eyes were closed and she was lost in herself and in the moment. She swung her arms out and spun again, then started jumping to the beat of the silent song. The sight made his chest go tight. She was beautiful, and it had nothing to do with physical appearance. It was her spirit—she was beautiful in her freedom.

Dan felt as though he was intruding on something important. Something deeply personal. As much as he wanted to know what she was doing barefoot in a clearing that was just showing the bright greens of spring, he didn’t want to intrude on her moment. He should walk away. But his feet were rooted to the ground as securely as the trees around him. Chloe’s attention span was substantially shorter than his, though, and she forgot to even try to whisper.

“See, Dad? I told you it was a barefoot lady dancing on the mountain! Isn’t she pretty? Can we dance, too?” Chloe’s high voice must have broken through whatever music was playing in Mack’s ears, because she stopped dancing and started looking around. She froze when she saw them, then squinted. Dan realized they were in the tree shadows and might look threatening, so he stepped into the sunlight.

“Dan? What are you doing...?” She yanked the ear pods out and stared, her mouth falling open but no more words coming out.

His smile was automatic. That seemed to be how it worked around her. “I think the bigger question is what are you doing? Having a little Sound of Music moment up here, Mack?”

Her face went bright red, and she quickly ran her hands over her hair, pushing it back over her shoulders. “I... I’m...hiking. It’s been a long time since I saw the Kissing Rock, so...”

His right brow shot up. “So you figured you’d celebrate the occasion with an interpretive dance?”

Mack’s laughter was quick and full. “Yup. That’s it. You caught me honoring the mountain gods.” Her head tipped to the side. “Is that not still the tradition?”

“The tradition these days is for people to honor the no-trespassing signs on the trail.” He was still smiling, so she didn’t even pretend to take him seriously as she walked their way.

“Looks like I’m not the only one breaking the rules, Officer.” Chloe giggled at Mack’s observation. Mack looked down at her and grinned. “And you’re corrupting the town’s youth. Who is this pretty lady?”

Chloe jumped forward, her hand extended. “I’m Chloe and this is my dad. Why are you barefoot? Why were you dancing? Do you live here? Are you the ghost?”

Mack’s eyes went wide at the barrage of questions, then she gave Dan a quick wink before answering.

“I’m Mackenzie Wallace, but you can call me Mack. I grew up here a long...” She glanced up at Dan. “...long time ago. I’m definitely not a ghost. I’m dancing because Whitney Houston was telling me she needed to dance with somebody, and I figured I’m somebody, right?” Chloe nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

But there was one question left unanswered. Dan gestured to her feet. “And where are your shoes, dancing queen?”

Mack’s face twisted. “Those weren’t shoes. They were torture devices.” She held up one foot to expose the ugly, open blister just below her ankle. “The other foot is just as bad. I couldn’t take one more step in those things once I got up here.”

“Let me guess,” Dan said with a chuckle. “You decided to hike up the mountain in those heavy boots you just bought this week.”

“Well, I wore them around the shop for a few days to break them in.”

“Because you do so much walking in a liquor store. What did you wear for socks, Mack?”

“Um...my gym socks. You know, tighty-whities?”

He closed his eyes tightly. “That is not what tighty-whities are. And those socks are no match for a mountain and a brand-new pair of hiking boots. Where are they now?”

Chloe raised her hand to get their attention. “Wait. Do you guys know each other? Daddy, do you know Mack? Did you arrest her or something?”

Mack started laughing again. The sound of her laughter, so deep and free, did something weird to Dan’s chest cavity. It resonated there and made him relax somehow. Mack leaned over to face Chloe.

“Actually, your daddy did try to arrest me, but it was a misunderstanding. We’ve known each other a long time. Since I was a little girl not much older than you are, I’m guessing. Are you ten? Twelve?”

Chloe straightened, looking very pleased at those guesses. “I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in November. What was my daddy like as a kid?”

Mack’s eyes flickered up to his face, and she must have noted his tension. Chloe was bound to hear stories of Dan’s misspent youth eventually. But not today. Mack flashed him another wink.

“Your daddy was my big brother’s best friend, and they did a lot of...fun...things when they were boys. How about you? What do you like to do for fun?”

As easily distracted as ever, Chloe launched into a list of all the things she liked to do. Mack seemed to be listening closely, and Dan appreciated that she didn’t talk down to Chloe or treat her as less than a person. He’d dated a few women who seemed to see his daughter as an unfortunate intrusion on their time. Dan followed the two females walking hand in hand toward the Kissing Rock at the base of the mountain peak. Didn’t really need to be thinking about dating and Mackenzie in the same breath. That was a nonstarter for a couple of reasons. But most importantly for how their pasts were tragically entwined.

She’d never blamed him for Ryan’s accident, probably because she didn’t know—or forgot—that he was the one who’d stolen the gin they were drinking that night. Maybe she’d forgotten his involvement. But Dan never would.

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